<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Luminous Beings Are We by Kyerie</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010014">Luminous Beings Are We</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyerie/pseuds/Kyerie'>Kyerie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonverse AU, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Jedi, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, The Dark Side of the Force, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:34:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyerie/pseuds/Kyerie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The legacy of a thousand generations of Jedi lives on only in Rey Skywalker. Uncertain of the direction of her next steps after the fall of the First Order, she seeks answers about her future in the ruins of the past. </p><p>But clouded, the Force has become. Peace is a nebulous thing hanging fragile among the stars, easily shattered by those who grasp at it. </p><p>Rey's search for clarity will take her further than she ever thought possible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been trying to construct this story for the better part of a year and have reworked it multiple times. I've posted pieces in fits and starts, but haven't been happy with it. </p><p>This story is in two parts.</p><p>The tags will be updated as the story is posted.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The marketplace in the old city of Theed thrums with activity; colourful carts of wares scattered amongst the heaving crowds of milling shoppers. Here, a stack of droid components, there, fruits in a rainbow of colours laid out on tables out to tempt the passersby. Brightly coloured pennants fly in the gentle summer breeze, catching the sunlight and casting coloured shadows on goods and people alike.</p><p>“General,” calls one of the merchants, deep voice resonant above the hubbub of busy market. A young man turns to look back at the Gungan merchant, eyebrows raised in inquiry. “Thank you!” He gently tosses one of the round fruits overhand in the direction of the human male.</p><p>Poe Dameron catches the jogan fruit easily, smiling brightly and waving at the merchant over the crowd. He places the fruit in his satchel and continues his determined stride towards the wide stone concourse where city streets join.</p><p>As the scattered houses and carts of the living city fall away, they are replaced by tall buildings capped by green domes, the shoppers of the day’s market giving way to scattered palace guards in stiff, burgundy overcoats.</p><p>“Hey buddy,” he calls to one of the guards, gesturing him to come nearer. The man’s eyes snap to Poe, hand going to his holstered blaster. “I need some help here,” Poe adds. “I have an appointment.”</p><p>The young guard looks side to side, as if to seek support from one of his fellows. He waves over a taller man in a coat with blue sleeves. “Captain Darik,” he calls to the other, gesturing to him to approach.</p><p>The captain approaches, his imposing height made all the more intimidating by his ramrod straight posture. His thick leather boots clack firmly on the stones of the palace concourse, echoing softly off the distant walls as he walks towards his underling and the newcomer. He looks Poe up and down. His eyes linger on the blaster at the man’s side. “What’s this about?”</p><p>“This man says he has an appointment, Captain.”</p><p>“Captain! Pleased to meet you.” Poe says, flashing a rakish smile. He gestures to himself, “I’m here to meet with the Queen.”</p><p>The tall, neatly groomed guard captain asks “Who are you?” His thick eyebrows almost meet in the middle of his forehead as he scowls at Poe.</p><p>Dameron beams up at the man who stands head and shoulders above him, attempting to look both important and non-threatening all at once. “General Poe Dameron of the Rebellion fleet. I know usually there’d be a welcoming committee and everything,” Poe continues, “but with the way things are—”</p><p>He’s cut off mid-sentence by Darik. “General Dameron, the Council already declined your request for a meeting.”</p><p>“But the Queen didn’t,” Dameron says, his smile now gone, face business-like. “And Captain, she’s going to hear what I have to say. The Monarch has been one of the biggest supporters of democracy since the day of the old Republic. You can’t tell me that the Queen of Naboo isn’t going to meet with me.”</p><p>“Captain, shall I—” the guard starts. He’s silenced by a wave of the captain’s hand.</p><p>“The Queen of Naboo isn’t going to meet with you, General,” the captain says stonily. “Be on your way.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“General—”</p><p>“Captain, no. I’m staying here until the Queen meets with me.”</p><p>The captain huffs in annoyance. “Leave, or we’ll make you leave.”</p><p>“Try me.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The cells beneath the palace weren’t too bad, so far as cells went, Poe thought. After he’d come to from the stun blast, he was surprised to find himself on a relatively comfortable padded bench in a dark room. It wasn’t musty, there were no ominous dripping noises, and there was even a window looking off the side of the cliff on which the edge of the palace was built. All in all, it was one of the better cells he’d been in over the course of his life.</p><p>The comm on his wrist chimes and he hits the button to answer. “Poe here.”</p><p>“I told you not to piss them off,” chides Connix’ annoyed voice over the comm. “We’ve been trying for weeks to get a meeting with them.”</p><p>“I didn’t piss anyone off,” Poe volleys back. “It got me into the palace didn’t it?”</p><p>“You are impossible, General.” He can hear the rolling of her eyes in her tone. “Try not to get yourself executed. I managed to get that meeting with Chandrilla and it’s next week. If you show up dead to that meeting after I worked so hard to get it, I’ll kill you myself.”</p><p>“Noted. Poe out.” He could hear footsteps approaching his cell as he rang off and ruffled his hair quickly to straighten it. Adjusting his shirt to hide the worst of the wrinkles, he stood to attention as the door creaked open.  “Captain Darik!”</p><p>“General,” the captain says with a nod, his earlier distrust of the Resistance general gone. “The queen will meet with you now.”</p><p>“Told you she’d see me,” Poe grins. “Lead the way mon capitane.”</p><p>They walk in silence out from the detention block. As they climb the wide stairway into the palace proper, the darker walls give way to expansive halls of smooth stone. Patterned marble floors the like of which Poe had never before seen stretch between lustrous rust-coloured columns that reach to the domed ceiling high above. He is unable to stop his eyes from roaming as they walk the silent corridors, accompanied only by the echoes of their boots striking the polished floors.</p><p>Ahead of them, a group of richly dressed people mill about outside of the large bronze doors of what Poe suspects must be the royal audience chamber. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder and brushes the front of his shirt with his hand, hoping to be at least somewhat presentable to the Monarch. But instead of approaching the people standing by to enter the chamber, Captain Darik turns off into a narrow hallway between two of the gargantuan columns. Poe follows, throwing one last glance in the direction he’d expected to go.</p><p>Darik opens a filigreed door, plain in comparison to the rest of the palace’s finery, and ushers Poe through, staying in the hallway himself.</p><p>He finds himself in what must be considered a small antechamber in this palace of open spaces. The room would comfortably fit the Falcon, but its low ceiling and many furnishings leave him feeling as if he is in a much smaller chamber. Tapestries covered in flowing designs cover two of the walls while a third is made entirely of windows with gilded trim. An enormous desk of dark wood sits in front of the windows and behind it is seated a young woman. She is dressed plainly, in tans and browns, her only nod to the vibrant colours of her peoples’ dress is the red headscarf that covers her hair. Unlike the portraits Poe has seen of Queens of Naboo, the monarch’s face is plain and she is unadorned by the jewellery and costume of her predecessors.</p><p>“Queen Nataya,” Poe says, bowing his head. “Thank you for meeting with me.”</p><p>“General Dameron,” her voice is richer than her apparent years would belie, and it was shot through with iron, much like Leia’s had been. “You have been harassing my advisors for weeks, and now my palace guard. How many times to you need to be told ‘no’ before you will listen?”</p><p>“At least one more, your majesty,” he quips. “But I hope you’ll hear me out. Ever since Exegol, we’ve been—”</p><p>She raises a hand delicately and lifts her chin. Her gaze is steely. “I’ve heard your arguments, General. I’m not interested in hearing them again. You have asked too much of Naboo. We lost our entire government in the Hosnian genocide last year. We had only just started picking up the pieces when your people came begging for ships. We have lost eleven percent of our population in this war, General. Eleven percent of my people are dead. Naboo has answered the call time and time again, and we have paid a dear price to defend democracy. We have bled across the galaxy when answering the call of duty. We must have time to heal. In sixty years, we have known peace for only fifteen. Leave us be, General. Let Naboo heal.”</p><p>“Your majesty, if you think this is a time of peace, you’re wrong. The First Order is still out there; they weren’t all at Exegol, and they’re regrouping just like we are. We need to finish this and if we want the free worlds of the galaxy to stay free we have to do it now!” He finishes at a shout, gesticulating widely in an impassioned plea.</p><p>“That is enough, General. We have our navy – Naboo’s navy, not yours – to protect ourselves. We will ride out this storm. I thank you, General Dameron, for your efforts this past year. But my people have given enough to help save the galaxy. Let other systems fight their own battles for once. We will not be drawn back into a war that will last another generation.”</p><p>Poe’s hands fist at his sides and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at the queen. Leia’s straight-shooting tactics had not been so effective coming from him. Connix had urged him to try to be diplomatic. He isn’t sure he can. He pulls his lips into a thin line and gives the queen a curt nod. “Your majesty, respectfully, I think you’re making a mistake.”</p><p>“Then it is my mistake to make, General Dameron. You have my answer. You may go.” She gestures towards the door through which he had entered.</p><p>He turns to leave, and hears the queen pull open a drawer. “General,” she calls, her voice gentler than it had been a moment before. He turns back to her. “There is one last thing. This was left with me by the palace librarian when she retired. She asked that it be passed on to General Organa.” Poe can hear a note of sadness in her voice as she speaks Leia’s name. “As her successor, I feel it is best given to you.”</p><p>Poe reaches for the object the queen is holding out to him. He has not seen many of these in his life aside from the ancient Jedi texts that Rey spent so many hours perusing, but he recognizes the small book he is handed. He opens the cover and sees it is handwritten in a deep blue ink.</p><p>“Leia was here on Naboo some years ago, researching her birth mother Padmé Naberrie. She had asked the palace librarian to look up some information for her. This is some additional research that Amyari Jata had put together for her on the topic. She left it in my care.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Poe says simply. He opens the flap of his satchel to put the book inside, but finds that he must have landed on his jogan fruit when he was stunned. Pulp and juice are everywhere in the bag. Instead, he tucks the small book into one of the buttoned pockets on the strap across his chest.</p><p>“That is all,” the queen tells him. She raises her hand to indicate the doorway, where a different guard captain waits by the opened door. “Be well, General Dameron.”</p><p>“And you, Queen Nataya. May the Force be with you.”</p><p>As the door closes behind himself and the uniformed guardsman, Poe turns to him and asks “so, who took my blaster and how do I get it back?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>18 ABY</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Naboo Royal Library</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The room is stifling. It has been a long, hot summer on this part of the capital continent and Leia, having grown up in the milder weather of Alderaan, is unaccustomed to the heat and humidity of Naboo in a roaring summer heat wave. Her careful Mother-style braids a half undone by the curling and frizzing of her hair. She growls in frustration, dropping her head to the desk in front of which she sits. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Amyari, could you come here?” Her voice is muffled somewhat by the wood of the desk. “I’m hopeless with this.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Senator. What do you need?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> She lifts her head and indicates a notation on the screen of the holopad before her. “I know that this here indicates that Sola had a child, what does this symbol mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It indicates that she chose to have her child without marrying, so the child could be part of her own house. This would usually be done by families who only had one child to carry on the family name.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So her child is also a Naberrie?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Amyari smiled and nodded. “That is correct. It is a common practice even today. Mostly for inheritance reasons, although this symbol here,” she gestures to a small reddish circle on the next line, “indicates that the line ended there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Leia pulled a second holopad closer, flicking her finger across the screen to bring it out of its sleep mode. “And here, what does this one mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The ancient librarian adjusts her spectacles and glances down the length of her nose to read the text before her. “That indicates that he had a child after marrying.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Amyari, are you sure?” Leia felt her heart rate increasing. “Are you absolutely sure?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She nodded, her earrings jingling softly in the still air of the library. “Why yes, our records are amongst the most detailed in the New Republic.” She sniffs lightly, as if to take offense at the suggestion that she may be mistaken. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Leia looked down at the holopad in her hands, her horror growing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Palpatine had a child.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tattooine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Breathe. Just… breathe.</em>
</p>
<p><em>There is life singing in the Force in every direction. The web of existence; light and dark and birth and death and growth and decay all weaving together into a glorious harmony of </em>balance.<em> She is one with the</em> <em>universe about her, not a point amongst many but a single thread in the tapestry of existence; a warp that is woven above and between each of the wefts. She is continuous and eternal. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Be with me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>with</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>me</em>
</p>
<p>The warmth of the first-risen sun strikes her face, bringing her mind back from the edge of eternity to the feel of coarse sand beneath her folded legs. She takes one deep, cleansing breath in and slowly releases it between her open lips and opens her eyes.</p>
<p>For all her attempts to meditate her way to balance within herself, she can still feel the sharp edges of the void within her. Where once the thick rope of her connection to another had lived, she perceives only the gnawing ache of loss, deep and wide. She glances at the expanse of sand around her, hoping for even the faintest flicker of a Force-lit face, a whisper of visitation from the redeemed man who had given everything to save her. She had felt him become one with the Force flowing through her and all things. Just as Luke and Leia had. And yet, he had not yet appeared to her as her masters had. He has had no words of wisdom, no guiding thoughts, not even a goodbye.</p>
<p>Rey rises from her place in the sand, brushing the irritating granules from the backs of her legs. She shakes the circulation back into her legs during the short walk back to where she had slept.</p>
<p>It hadn’t taken her long to find the cave when she had sought it out. Master Luke had sent her in the direction of the canyon not far from his childhood home. His voice had guided her, but there hadn’t been much need. The stone still resonated with a memory of the Jedi who had lived there for twenty years. Echoes of his life ring through the Force the closer she comes to the cave. When she had crested the last ridge on that first day and spotted the thin opening in the craggy wall of the canyon, Rey had been certain she would find some creature taking shelter from the midday sun within, but she had found nothing. It seemed as if the place had lain in wait for her. By her count, it must be at least forty standard years since the legendary Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi had left Tatooine, yet the cave remained empty. Untouched but for an eddy of sand that had crept partway inside.</p>
<p>Rey turns to enter the cave through the thin opening in the rock. She runs a hand along the smooth, white stone within.</p>
<p>The cave is a simple home, divided into three incompletely separated areas. A lounge, of sorts, with a smooth bench rising out of the stone. A room for sleep, the raised bed’s mattress long having deteriorated into scraps of fibre, much like the robes that had fallen from the hooks on which they’d previously hung. Gravity and time had taken their toll on the fabric. Within the main space of the cave is a counter for preparing food, but little else besides scattered shelves hewn into the rock with few belongings. A clay pot. A folded blanket. Parts for a speeder.</p>
<p>“Master Kenobi, I still can’t see anything about the future,” she says into the empty space of the cool, white-washed room. A moment later, a corner lit by the rising second sun takes on a cooler glow. As if stepping from behind a curtain, Obi Wan Kenobi comes into view, pushing back his hood from about his face. He appears to her much younger than his first apparition to her, hair auburn and thick unlike the thin, greying crown he had worn the first she had seen him. His Force signature is unchanged; calm and steady it echoes in the Living Force.</p>
<p>His blue-grey eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles at her. She can feel the warmth of his presence; a steadying influence on her still-turbulent emotions. “Perhaps, young Rey, you simply need to stop looking. Let the Force flow through you and it will guide you to what you need to know.”</p>
<p>“But, Master, I have been letting the Force flow through me. By the time I see anything of the future, it will be the present,” Rey huffs and reaches an arm into her satchel to find her canteen.</p>
<p>The youthful-appearing Jedi chuckles. “Patience, young one. Much like my first padawan, you are unaccustomed to needing to cultivate your abilities in the Force. Even to you, not everything can come as naturally as breathing.”</p>
<p>The Jedi pauses, canteen halfway to her mouth. “<em>Please</em> don’t keep comparing me to Darth Vader,” she mutters. Though only the second time Kenobi’s Force ghost has appeared to her, it is at least the third time he has made the comparison. It rubs at the raw places within her where the knowledge of her grandfather’s identity had settled turbulent and greasy.</p>
<p>Obi Wan Kenobi’s Force ghost takes a seat on the smooth, worn bench, fitting seamlessly into a place which, from the uneven wearing of the paint Rey could tell must have been a favourite of his in life. “He wasn’t Darth Vader, then,” Kenobi says pensively, stroking his close-cropped beard. “He was simply Anakin, my student and my friend, before the darkness took him. Anakin was uniquely gifted. Most Force abilities came to him with ease, much as they do with you. The Anakin Skywalker I trained was no more Darth Vader than my namesake was Kylo Ren. At least, from a certain point of view.”</p>
<p><em>From a certain point of view,</em> she scoffs to herself. She remains silent a moment, then broaches cautiously. “Master Kenobi, Ben said something… is the dark side part of my nature? Because of my grandfather?”</p>
<p>“No, Rey,” he says soothingly. “The Dark Side of the Force is not part of a anyone’s nature. To follow it is a choice and all Jedi are faced with this choice. They may seize their anger, their fear, and their hatred, and follow that path into the dark. Or they may choose peace, and justice, and follow the light. We are born knowing the Living Force, but we choose what shape it takes in our lives. I once thought that the Force decided a person’s path for them. It was to my great sorrow that I was wrong. It is our choices that define us, my young friend. Choose wisely.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan fades from view, leaving Rey in the silent cavern that was once his home.</p>
<p>Rey growls in frustration, mentally cursing Force ghosts and their tendency to vanish before she has had a chance to ask what she wants to know. Master Luke had clearly adopted the same bad habit from his first master, always rejoining the Force at the most inopportune times with many things still unsaid.</p>
<p>She takes another swig from her canteen, carefully licking the single precious drop that escaped down her chin before returning her water to her bag and leaving the cave behind. Something tells her she has learned all she can here, and she senses she will not see Master Kenobi here again.</p>
<p>Rey climbs onto the decrepit speeder bike she had cobbled together from the remains of droids and speeders she’d scavenged from Luke’s old homestead and pieces she’d pulled from the Falcon’s storage. After a shuddering start, the machine comes to life with a roar and hovers unsteadily above the sand before she sets off to return the way she came.</p>
<p>The pale dome of the Lars moisture farm shimmers over the sand as she approaches. Both suns have since risen and cast bright daylight across the sand, creating the shimmering illusion of water here and there about her. She squints her eyes, practiced at blocking out the lies of sunlight in the desert. It doesn’t take her long to reach her goal for which she is grateful as the speeder is shuddering uneasily. Rey makes a mental note that it will need new converters before she takes it out again.</p>
<p>BB-8 rolls up the stairs that lead into the main house as she approaches, beeping a greeting and advising her that everything was as she left it.</p>
<p>“Thanks, BB-8.” She runs a hand over the droid’s semispherical head and taps the antenna, an unconscious gesture she has adopted when greeting it. “I think it might be time to head back.” He whirrs and beeps excitedly, remarking on his hope to return to Poe and the remainder of the resistance.</p>
<p>They have been away a month now. After the Battle of Exegol, and the celebrations that followed, she had been granted leave to take off on <em>Jedi business.</em> The explanation seemed sacrosanct amongst the Resistance leadership. What their Jedi needed; she was granted. Poe and Finn had insisted she take the Falcon, and Poe had ordered her to take the little droid with her so that she wouldn’t be completely alone on the journey.</p>
<p>The gesture was appreciated, and after so long in the company of many, Rey had found that complete loneliness was now more difficult to bear even though it had once been her source of safety. But her loss at Exegol was profound, and she could not give rise to the grief that ate at her after the battle. The presence of her friends and comrades – organic or droid – could not soothe the wounds that the tearing apart of the Dyad had left. Neither Poe nor Finn, she felt, could or would understand. A month later, her soul has only begun to feel as if it is beginning to heal and Rey is uncertain if it ever will fully recover. At least the time away has allowed her to finish her own lightsaber.</p><hr/>
<p>
  <em>She was led by the Force to the crater that was once the holy city of NiJedha. A scrap of kyber – all that remained after the moon had been pillaged to build the first Death Star – sang to her from its place buried deep in the dirt. Rey had taken her time collecting the crystal from its resting place in the tomb of the former holy city, using the Force to gently excavate the earth surrounding her crystal. When it finally sprang free of the ground that had housed it for decades, she marveled at the clarity of the small stone, and the resonance of its presence in the Force. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Kyber in hand, she left Jedha for Jakku, her erstwild homeworld. The desert that forged her strength and tempered her mind like so much beskar was the only choice of location to create her Jedi weapon. She had withdrawn to a stripped Star Destroyer deep in the bandlands; the site of her first remembered awareness of the Force waking within her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>After two days of meditation and fiddling with electrical components, Rey raised the weapon in triumph. Its golden blade, bright as the flaming sun above her desert home world, had sprung to life before her, and hummed quietly, as if to give voice to the balance she is still striving to find within herself. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With the completion of her own weapon, Rey felt the Skywalker sabers deserved their rest. Her trip took her, finally, to Tatooine, and the modest moisture farm where Luke Skywalker’s story began. </em>
</p><hr/>
<p>Rey looks about the home where her first master had grown up. She can feel the echoes of happy days within; memories of laughter and affection, kinship and belonging echo in the adobe walls. The love and warmth of family life which feels so foreign to her still. She runs a hand idly along the wall as she walks out, back towards the Falcon. Before setting her foot on the ramp, she turns to take one last look at where it all started. The midday suns ride high above the homestead, both suns unforgiving in their brightness. Rey thinks for a moment that she sees a flash of blue in the shimmering heat rising from the sand, but blinks twice and the vision is gone.  She walks up the Falcon’s boarding ramp and readies the ship for take-off.</p>
<p>As Rey reaches to input the coordinates for the base at Ajan Kloss, her hand stills. All of her Masters had taught her that how one expressed the Force was about choice. It had been the most consistent lesson from each of them, though each of them had made choices that empowered the Dark Side. Luke’s choice to look into Ben’s mind that faithful night. Obi Wan’s choice to train Anakin Skywalker. Leia’s choice to leave behind her Jedi path to protect her son which led to her choosing to send him to Luke instead. Each choice made with a hope for peace and balance in mind; each with devastating consequences.</p>
<p>Luke had railed at the hubris of the Jedi, and the choices of the Order which led to the creation of Vader and the suffering he brought on the galaxy.</p>
<p>Rey reflects that if she is to prevent the devastation that the choices of the Jedi before her wrought on the galaxy, she should learn more about this path she has found herself on. She has exhausted the ancient Jedi texts and wrung from them every scrap of wisdom they hold for her. Perhaps, she feels, a more contemporary source might be necessary.</p>
<p>A quick flip through the navigation system and she lays in a course for Yavin 4 and the bones of Luke’s school. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>